


you're the first and last of your kind

by sweetfogarty



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Christmas, Cute, F/M, Fluff, Meet-Cute, Romance, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, Sweet, soulmate tattoo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:27:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22091047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetfogarty/pseuds/sweetfogarty
Summary: Soulmate tattoos are commonplace across Riverdale, taking the form of floral pieces that bloom on you where your soulmate’s skin has come into contact with yours.Everyone around you seems to be regularly adorned with these temporary tattoos, but you’ve never experienced a single one, and you’re beginning to think you never will.
Relationships: Fangs Fogarty/Reader, Fangs Fogarty/You
Comments: 9
Kudos: 31
Collections: A Very Merry Serpent Hissmas





	you're the first and last of your kind

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MyFantasticImagines1](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyFantasticImagines1/gifts).



> Written for the lovely Dee for the SouthsideArchive Secret Santa. Enjoy!

Blooming flowers.

You’d heard the stories about the blooming flowers since you were small. Tales about how when someone who was romantically tied to your soul touched you, temporary flower tattoos would bloom across your skin in response had been a part of your life for as long as you could remember.

You’d seen people with the flowers before, some fresh and some fading and the first time you saw it was when you were an early teen, but the reality of what those tattoos actually meant only set in once you started at Riverdale High. Archie Andrews and Veronica Lodge had been holding hands as they walked through the halls of the school, absolutely smitten, knowing that they were made for each other, and from their hands ivy, the plant Romans used to give newly-weds to symbolise faithfulness, weaved its way up around their fingers and wrists. By the end of the school day those dainty stems of ivy had faded, only to be replaced by new blooms the next time they saw each other.

They were soulmates, and the flowers proved it.

These temporary tattoos were the conclusive evidence that someone was or wasn’t your other half, but no one knew exactly how they worked. For some people, the flowers would bloom instantly upon being touched by a soulmate, from a tiny sprig caused by a brush of the hand in a crowded store to full bouquets and arrangements from more intimate moments with someone you loved, and for others you could be with someone and only months into your relationship would you see the first bloom.

How the tattoos worked was a mystery, but you hadn’t yet experienced it and you wondered when, or if, you would. Only time would tell, but with your friends having found their soulmate via the tattoos, you hoped your first would come sooner rather than later.

Christmas was fast approaching, and realised that if you wanted to treat your family you needed to get a job, and so when you saw a ‘help wanted’ sign in the window of a familiar neon lit diner, you immediately applied and were offered a job.

Without hesitation you took the job at Pop’s, donning the humble yellow uniform, to supplement the cash you hoped would make this expensive time of year more manageable. You frequented the diner as a customer regularly, and so taking a job there made sense to you- you’d get a regular wage, see your friends as they came in to eat and get to eat Pop’s on your breaks.

Pop Tate had spruced up the menu for the festive season, adding ingredients to his signature burgers and twisting his shakes and sundaes to have a little more seasonal sparkle. This, mixed with Veronica Lodge’s speakeasy downstairs throwing Christmas themed events, meant that Pop’s seemed busier than you’d ever known it to be. Familiar faces from across the town had started to descend on the diner to get their fix of Pop’s almost daily, and you felt like you’d served every single one of them.

And yet, despite having had a personal meet and greet with almost everyone in town, there had been no blooming flowers. Not even a sprig.

Maybe your soulmate wasn’t in Riverdale, or maybe you just didn’t have one. You were content in your own company, and not looking for anyone, but secretly part of you was disappointed that you hadn’t been able to experience what it was like to see those flowers growing on you.

You wondered what it would feel like internally to know you had a soulmate, and whether you could feel the flowers growing on you. Perhaps it would be a tickling sensation, or maybe it would be warm, like when you sink into a bath.

You were drawn out of your thoughts by the jingle of the bell that sat above the front door of the diner. You smoothed out your uniform, pulling your pencil and pad out of the front pocket on your apron as you moved to greet the visitor who was shaking out his dark hair as he clutched his motorcycle helmet.

You recognised him from the group of Serpents that always sat in the back booth. He usually sat next to the brooding one and he was always the one laughed the loudest. Rarely a chuckle or a snicker, he often filled Pop’s with a loud and hysterical roll of laughter straight from his belly, a noise that almost always caused you to giggle along with him as he smacked the table with his hands in pure happiness.

You’d often admired him longingly from behind the counter, stealing glances when you had a few minutes spare, looking away when he occasionally returned your stare through his sooty eyelashes. You’d become all too familiar with him; from the way his smile was a little crooked to the way he always asked for his burgers without mushrooms. But the one detail you were foggy on was his name.

You knew he wasn’t Jughead - that kid frequented the Shoppe more often than you did, and he definitely wasn’t Toni, and so by process of elimination he was either Sweet Pea or Fangs. He looked like a Sweet Pea to you - you couldn’t imagine someone so soft being named Fangs.

“Good evening, welcome to Pop’s. Are you dining in today?” You asked with your pen and pad in hand, ready.

“No, actually, I’m not,” he replied, setting his helmet down. “I’m actually here to pick up some toys. I help at the Southside Toy Drive- you guys were a collection point for toys for us.”

“Yes!” Your eyes widened in recollection and a smile crept over your face as you pointed your pencil over your shoulder. “They’re out the back, I’ll go and get them. Did you want anything to take away with you whilst I’m back there? On the house.”

Fangs scrunched his face up a little as he considered your offer. “Just a cheeseburger, please, I would normally do fries too but I accidentally opened the front camera the other day whilst I was laying down and at least 30% of my face was double chin so I’m trying to have some self-discipline.”

You grinned widely, a little laugh rolling from your chest as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “It happens to the best of us. I’ll be right back with your toys.”

You left Fangs at the door, dipping behind the counter and out back to where Pop was. After giving him Fangs’ order, with an added side of fries, you grabbed the bags of toys that had been donated by the people of Riverdale for the Southside Toy Drive. It hadn’t always been a popular affair, but once the biggest barriers between the North and South sides of town had been overcome, donations from the more affluent side of town poured in, with Pop’s acting as a collection point for those who weren’t yet ready to travel to the Wyrm.

You let out a few strained groans as you hauled bag after bag of toys into the main diner, gaining glances from those dining in. Fangs looked at you with slightly widened eyes as you stopped in front of him, ready to go back and get the next load of donations.

“Wait, this isn’t even all of it?” He asked confusedly, motioning to his helmet. “To be honest I didn’t think we were going to get this many donations so I only bought my bike. If I do a few trips I might be able to get it all back.”

“I’m not working tomorrow - I can drive by the Wyrm and drop them off to you if you want me to? I’ll pack them in my car before I go and swing by tomorrow at, say, midday? Saves you the journeys.”

A grin prickled at the sides of Fangs’ mouth. “Are you sure you want to drive to the depths of the deep, dark Southside? Someone might steal your hubcaps and sell them on the black market, or, worse than that, you might see Jughead Jones before he’s had a coffee.”

“I see him in here often enough that I know the only time to be scared is when he hasn’t eaten. That hubcap part though? Not sure if I can risk that. If only there was someone in a leather jacket trying to pick up toys on a motorbike who could make sure my hubcaps were safe.”

Fangs grinned, wiggling his eyebrows as flexed his arms, trying to settle his face into something more serious. “If anyone comes near your hubcaps, I’ll just flex my biceps and boom, they’ll go running.”

You shook your head with a laugh. “Well, if that’s the case, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow at around lunch time?”

“It’s a date. I’ll see you then.” Fangs picked up his helmet and waved, slipping out the door towards his bike.

“Wait there,” you called out, poking your head out of the door, drawing the attention of the other diners. You darted out back and grabbed the brown paper bag that sat with Fangs’ order inside, rolling the top down to keep it warm before taking it out to him where he stood, leaning against the metal frame of his bike. “You almost forgot this.”

The tips of your fingers barely brushed his as you handed the bag over to him, and a warmth bloomed in the pit of your stomach.

“You’re an angel, seriously, thank you. If you don’t see me when you get there tomorrow just ask for Fangs and someone will point you in the right direction.”

“Fangs?” You asked. “You seem like more of a Sweet Pea to me.”

Fangs gagged, looking at you with disgust crawling over his face. “I can’t believe you thought I was Sweet Pea with his venti caramel frappuccino, lamp post, sentient tree, microphone stand, baguette lookin’ ass. Disgusting.”

You blinked back blankly, unsure as to whether you’d misread every interaction you’d ever seen between them in Pop’s. “Wait, I thought you two were best friends?”

“Oh, we are, doesn’t stop me from giving him a well-deserved roast though.”

“Well, _Fangs_ , I guess I’ll see you tomorrow. Have a safe journey home and enjoy your food.”

With a quick wave, Fangs bike rumbled off into the distance and you quickly returned to the warmth of Pop’s, pulling your cardigan around you a little tighter.

The rest of your shift was quiet with handful of regulars coming in and a few new faces stopping by on their travels to Greendale and beyond. Absentmindedly, you fiddled with your left pointer finger, thinking about what had happened. You weren’t sure what was more unbelievable; that you were dropping toys off at the Whyte Wyrm tomorrow or that _he_ was Fangs, but you knew that Riverdale had an affinity for the unbelievable, so you weren’t entirely surprised about either.

It wasn’t until a few hours later, when the Shoppe was almost empty, that your shift was over, and Pop took over front of house.

You returned home with a car full of toys and flopped onto your bed when you arrived in your bedroom, replaying every detail of your conservation with Fangs as you took your hair down and kicked your shoes off. His jokes, his pouty lips, his charisma - it was engrained in your mind.

As you laid on your bed, texting Josie about what had happened, you noticed a tiny, faded black mark on your left pointer finger.

There, taking pride of place, was a miniature tattoo of a venus fly trap.

It was the smallest flower tattoo you’d ever seen and yet your heart was beating out of your chest as you stared at it silently, your fingers barely quivering and the hairs on your arms prickling up at the realisation of what had finally happened. Black and white with perfectly neat line work, on your finger. You had one, finally.

Although it was faded, it wasn’t faded enough to be from any other time apart from today.

You were racking your brain, trying to figure out who could have triggered it. Maybe it was Ollie from math class who you gave a pencil to this morning, maybe you were destined to be with a girl and it was Cassie who passed you a lunch tray, or possibly it could be one of the random passers-by from Pop’s tonight that you thought you’d never see again.

Or it could be Fangs.

You snapped a quick picture of it, not wanting to forget the moment that your first tattoo bloomed.

You knew that by morning it would be history and you’d just have to hope, by some stroke of luck, that you’d meet your person again.

* * *

As you expected, when you woke up the next morning, your tattoo was nowhere to be seen.

It was bitterly cold outside; too cold to snow but just cold enough for your car windscreen to be covered in a thick ice that you struggled to scrape off before you set off to drop off the toys and Fangs again.

Your car wheels crunched on the gravel of the Wyrm car park upon arrival. For a few moments you sat inside your car bracing yourself, wondering what it would be like inside the Serpent stronghold and trying to think of what you would say to Fangs. You couldn’t exactly open with ‘ _hi Fangs, nice to see you again- here are the toys for the Drive and, by the way, are we soulmates?_ ’, but you didn’t know how else to bring it up. It was an awkward topic, and you didn’t know him well enough to know how he would take it.

You gave yourself a count to three before getting out of the car, grabbing the toys that you’d condensed from multiple bags into one huge bin bag, and hauling it over your shoulder ready to take in.

Inside, the bar was different to what you imagined. It wasn’t dark and smoky with a dusty jukebox in the corner and a few seedy, menacing patrons sitting at the bar who looked like part of the furniture; it was bustling with life, adorned with Christmas lights and filled with gifts neatly wrapped by people from across the Southside.

You’d hoped deep down that it would be quiet so that you could find Fangs straight away, but the bar was lively, and you couldn’t see him through the throngs of people. You did, however, see Jughead, spotting his beanie between some heads just out of reach.

“Jughead!” You called out getting his attention.

A surprised smile wove its way across his face as his slithered between Southsiders towards you, looking more comfortable in this environment than you’d ever seen him. “Hey, what’re you doing here? Pop doesn’t have you holding back ravenous Riverdale fiends today?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “No, not today, this is my day off. I am here on official Shoppe business though and call me USPS because I’m here to deliver your toy donations. Do you know here Fangs is? He told me to ask for him when I got here.”

“Ah, you’re looking for Fangs Fogarty,” Jughead mused. “Follow me.”

You followed closely behind Jughead, toys in hand, as he weaved through the Serpents who were here to help prepare for the Toy Drive, looking back every now and again to check that you were still in tow.

It wasn’t long before you arrived at a table tucked away in the back corner of the bar with some familiar faces from Pop’s. Sweet Pea had his phone plugged into the AUX, filling the bar with a mixture of alternative rock and Christmas songs, Toni was wrapping the boxes in purple satin bows, taking her time to make sure they were all as even and perfect as possible, and Fangs was sat, covered in sellotape, wrapping box after box with his tongue caught between his teeth as he concentrated harder than you’d ever seen before.

“Fogarty, you have a visitor.” Jughead announced, catching the attention of not only Fangs but the others too as he motioned to you. “She comes bearing gifts, literally.”

Fangs’ look of concentration quickly melted into glee and a wide smile wove its way across his features, the skin at the sides of his eyes crinkling. Behind, Toni and Sweet Pea shared a knowing look that didn’t go unnoticed by Jughead as all three tried to keep coy faces.

“Hey,” you began with a small wave. “I’ve got the stuff from Pop’s with me as promised.”

“Wow you actually showed up. Are your hubcaps still intact?” Fangs laughed, whilst Sweet Pea, Toni and Jughead all looked at each other with confused expressions.

“So far so good,” you replied, giving a breathy laugh. “Hey, do you need any help wrapping? I’ve got nothing to do today and I’d like to help if you need me.”

“Oh, Fangs needs you alright,” Sweet Pea chimed in, earning a stifled laugh from Toni and widened eyes from Jughead. “Come on guys, let’s help FP, last I saw him he was one odd shaped present away from burning down the whole bar and if we lose the Mortal Kombat machine because of a Barbie, I’m out.”

Fangs looked at you with helpless eyes as the trio slinked away, leaving the two of you alone. You took Toni’s place ready to tie bows.

“Before we start, don’t judge my wrapping. I’m only good for boxes.”

You cocked an eyebrow, looking at you pile of gifts that had already been wrapped before you got here. “Even your boxes look ropey at best,” you replied amusedly with a hint sarcasm in your voice. Fangs rolled his eyes playfully, trying to subdue the smile that was threatening to spill across his face. “Here, let’s wrap this football.”

Fangs’ face quickly dropped with his brows knitted together and bottom lip pouting slightly as he sucked in a deep breath. “God, just when you think you’ve met someone who isn’t a dickhead, they give you a football to wrap.”

Your head fell back as a loud laugh erupted from the depths of your chest as, begrudgingly, he took the football from you.

You watched Fangs as his tongue fell back between his teeth, brows furrowed, and eyes narrowed in concentration. He was trying his hardest to wrap it as neatly as possible but wrapping a football that was rolling and wobbling every time he tried to hold it still to sellotape the wrapping paper meant that his patience was being tested.

His unwavering concentration meant you could get a good look at him without the fear that he’d look up and catch you. Admiring him from across the diner was one thing, but up close there was something so dreamy about him. His skin looked silky like caramel with a tiny shadow of stubble poking through and his eyes were the deepest brown you’d seen, adorned with gold flecks that caught the light like fireworks. His lips were blushed and pouty, and his hair fell into his face slightly as he cocked his head to get a better look at the football.

If he was your soulmate, you’d be smitten. Subconsciously, you hoped he was.

“Have you had a soulmate tattoo yet?” You blurted out, stilling Fangs’ hands as he looked up from his almost wrapped football. You hadn’t meant to say it so abruptly, and your embarrassment was eating you alive as your cheeks began to flush. “Sorry, I just-“

“Yeah, I have.” Fangs interrupted. “Have you?”

Your stomach dropped. Though you’d only known him personally for a day, you’d admired him from afar for much longer and you’d almost grown content in the idea that he could be your soulmate. Having that idea snatched from you before it could even be a reality was a strange sensation - you’d lost before you’d even loved, but it felt like you’d been winded.

“Yeah, I’ve had one.”

There was a silence between the two of you as a rock remix of _All I Want for Christmas Is You_ played from Sweet Pea’s phone, into the AUX and across the bar.

“What are they like? Your soulmate, I mean.”

You shrugged. “I don’t know, I only got my first tattoo yesterday. I’m not sure who they are yet.”

Fangs’ attention perked, a subtle fire burning in his eyes. “Yesterday?” He asked, eliciting a confused nod from you. “I got mine yesterday too, a tiny one on my finger. Sweet Pea’s Mum works in a flower shop and told me it was a chrysanthemum, a tiny red outline of one. She said they represent love. Makes sense considering it’s a soulmate tattoo- imagine if it was a flower that represented hate.”

“Mine was a venus fly trap.” You pulled out your phone, finding the picture you snapped last night, thankful that you took it. “Look.”

Fangs studied the picture, zooming in and admiring the intricacies of such a tiny tattoo. His mind was going wild and something in his chest was telling him that this was it, he just had to pluck up some courage to put his theory to the test.

“Hey, come with me.”

You left the table, following Fangs out a set of double doors and a fire escape, outside the back of the Wyrm where it was secluded and quiet. Your heart was thumping in your chest and you could feel a blush creeping up your chest towards your cheeks. You didn’t know what was going to happen but being alone with Fangs had your body reacting in all sorts of ways you’d never experienced before.

“Sorry to bring you out into the cold, I just didn’t want to talk about this in there,” Fangs started with an apologetic smile, motioning back the bar. “I know this might be farfetched, but what are the chances of us meeting properly for the first time last night and both getting our tattoos? Not to mention that my name is Fangs your tattoo was a plant that literally has teeth.” He looked at you, his hand inching towards yours. “I don’t know if you considered it, but I think you might have given me my tattoo. Can I?”

“Please.” You replied, grasping his hand as you looked at him for a few moments and then down to your hands.

There was nothing.

And then life bloomed on you both.

Wisteria vines wound around your hands and up your wrists, the delicate purple flowers coming to life before your very eyes and settling into your skin like they’d always been there and were always meant to be there. And whilst the flowers grew on your skin, a warmth grew in your chest and butterflies exploded in your stomach.

It was him. The boy with the kind smile, who always ordered his burgers without mushrooms, who gave back to his community, who looked like a Sweet Pea but was really a Fangs. He was your other half. Of everyone, it was him.

Fangs’ free arm wrapped around you, pulling you into his chest. You slipped your arm around his waist in return, curling your fingers around him and sliding it into the pocket of his leather jacket. Being with him was warm and comfortable, and you snuggled in a little closer as a cold breeze nipped at your skin.

“So, this is it, we finally found each other.”

“It looks that way. You’re stuck with me.” You grinned, squeezing him a little tighter.

“Do you think the Tattoo Gods do exchanges?” Fangs asked. You pulled your head away and looked up at him, mouth agape, meeting his amused look.

“God, just when you think you’ve met someone who isn’t a dickhead, they try and return you.” You mused, copying Fangs’ remark from earlier that day with a small giggle.

“I’m only joking.” Fangs placed a soft kiss to the crown of your head, squeezing you as tightly as he could against himself. Your face was flush against his chest and more flowers bloomed cross your exposed skin that was touching his. “I knew you were mine from you moment you snuck those fries into my bag yesterday. It’s me and you, baby, me and you.”


End file.
